


what makes us human

by octopodian



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 01:24:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15207755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopodian/pseuds/octopodian
Summary: “Hey, D. Just like old times, huh?” You say, smiling tiredly.York’s death, from his point of view, featuring a certain green robot. Also, it’s in second person, because I love making myself suffer.





	what makes us human

“Cover, cover, cover!” Tex yells. You sprint out, trying to lay down suppressing fire, when something hits you from your blind spot and sends you flying. 

 

[York!] Delta says, voice clear in your mind even over the explosions and bullets. 

 

“York, are you okay?”

 

“It's that damn left side,” you cough out. You feel ashamed, for a second, before searing pain and heat take over. 

 

“D, info,” Tex says. 

 

“York has sustained two wounds to his upper-left chest. I recommend evac, stat.” Delta’s voice is calm on the surface, but you’ve spent years with him, and he’s never sounded this worried. 

 

You hear him talking and something clicks. An A.I. can't fall into enemy hands. You don’t know much, York, but you do know this: if you have to die, you’re sure as hell not gonna let Delta die too. 

 

“Just... need a minute.” You try and grin, but it fades into a painful groan. [Delta, don’t you dare.] He pointedly doesn’t respond. [God damn it, D.]

 

“Administering field stents and analgesic,” Delta informs Tex tightly, and you realize you might not be able to stop him. 

 

[You shiny green motherfucker.] “Wait! Wait...Tex, don't-don't let 'im...”  _ Don’t let him die, especially not for me _ , you want to say,  _ drag him away, make sure he’s safe- _ , but your body grinds to a halt around you, and your surroundings shift. 

 

“Agent York is now unconscious.” 

 

You blink in confusion. It’s the Mother of Invention. You’re in the warmly lit room overlooking the training floor: normally busy with flashing lights and ' _ Run it again, FILSS _ ,' now dead silent. The yellow fluorescents buzz quietly overhead. You grip a coffee mug you didn’t know was there, feeling the warmth even as you know it can't be real.

 

“Hello, York,” Delta says, flashing into being next to you. His form flickers slightly, a hint of static, before stabilizing and materializing, solid and opaque. A soft green glow still casts light over the chamber. He’s still in armor, but he’s about your height, now.

 

He drops his gun and lets it dissolve into the air, emerald particles fading away as he lowers his hands.

 

“Hey, D. Just like old times, huh?” You say, smiling tiredly. The countless nights Delta kept you company are still fresh in your mind: probabilities and pick-up lines filling the air during every all-nighter.

 

“Affirmative. I thought a familiar location would be a source of comfort.” Delta’s voice hums as he sits on the table next to you and folds his hands in his lap.

 

You take a sip from the mug. A smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth. “You remembered my coffee order?”

 

His hologram buzzes. “This scenario is based on your own memories. Technically, you are the one remembering your own preferences.”

 

“Alright, alright. I get it.” You roll your eyes, “Love you too, D.”

 

“I fail to see how coffee represents affection,” Delta gripes. 

 

You snort quietly in response. Delta relaxes slightly, moving his hands to be by his sides. You lean back in the chair, welcoming the reassuring creak shifting beneath you.

 

The silence is almost soothing, for a moment, until your memories catch up with you and you process what's happening. 

 

“Delta, c’mon. Don’t do this,” you plead. Delta looks almost confused.

 

“Do...what?” he asks, tilting his head slightly.

 

“This! Staying here with me, getting yourself deleted. Go with Tex, you can trust her.” You look pleadingly into his helmet. He hesitates, searching for words. 

 

“I would... prefer to stay with you.” He shifts slightly, body language tense. He doesn’t meet your gaze.

 

Something melts away inside of you. You get up and hug him, York, and you thank whatever part of your dying brain lets him softly hug you back. You bury your face in his neck, trying to savor it while you can.

 

“...Thanks, Delta.” 

 

“It’s just part of what makes us human, York,” Delta adds, a slight bitterness in his words. Neither of you let go. 

 

“H-yeah, human,” you reply, wincing at the sudden, stabbing pain in your chest as you speak. You pull back, making eye contact with your own reflection in his visor. “Hey, D?”

 

“Yes, York?”

 

“I...” You pause, words catching in your throat, unsure of how to say everything that you want to say in the short period you had left.

 

“Affection is a human construct, York,” Delta said, reading your mind and pausing. “However, the feeling is mutual.”

 

“Thanks for coming down to my level, D.”

 

“I am here to assist.” He echoes himself faintly. 

 

You take a ragged breath, and as everything goes dark, the last thing you see is a glimmer of green.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this AGES ago and never posted it here whoops. anyway i love robot/human relationships im gay


End file.
